One
Boston, Massachusetts, Present Day.
The murmur of voices sharpened, cutting through the quiet.
“—Let me in.”
“I can’t. Antoine’s orders.”
Cally jolted awake at the rising tension outside her door. No, not her door; the door to Antoine’s bedroom.
He wasn’t beside her. The bed was empty where he’d lain, the sheets cool to her touch.
Memories of the night before made her smile; his mouth, his hands, the weight of him. She wanted to wrap that feeling around her. Where was he?
The voices outside pressed in. The first sounded like Gabe’s. What was he doing here? The second was Noah’s, and he wouldn’t keep Gabe out for long if the vampire was determined.
She pushed the duvet off and rose to see what the commotion was—before it escalated. And before Gabe burst in.
Yesterday’s clothes lay crumpled and damp on the floor, likely still reeking of Minh’s scent. Antoine’s dressing gown was draped over a chair, casually discarded. It hadn’t been there last night, she was sure of it.
A firm knock on the door. “Cally?” Noah’s voice.
“Just a moment.”
She ran her fingers through her blonde hair, tidying it as best she could. The dressing gown was too large on her, but pulled carefully tight, it would be decent enough. She needed to find a solution to the recurring clothing problem that didn’t involve borrowing Antoine’s or wearing yesterday’s.
Getting her own drawer in the vampire’s bedroom? The notion didn’t bother her as much as it once would. Hell, it didn’t bother her at all.
She opened the door before Noah could knock again. Both men bristled with whatever argument had preceded.
A chair sat in the hallway, suggesting Noah had spent the night there, and he was dressed in the same jeans and T-shirt he’d worn the day before. His sandy hair was mussed, his usual easy demeanor drawn tight. Gabriel was in slacks and a silk shirt, pressed and pristine, wavy dark hair immaculate, his polished appearance only adding gravity to his grim expression.
“What’s happened?” she asked, looking between them, her pulse thudding with foreboding. “Where’s Antoine?”
A muscle twitched in Gabe’s jaw. “I was rather hoping you could tell me that.”
“I thought he was here. He was with me last…” She narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Gabe?”
“You can sense him, right?” Gabe pressed, urgency creeping into his voice. “You can find him?”
The set of his shoulders and the haunted look in his green eyes made her stomach twist. She reached for the bond, and it tugged east. “Yes, I can sense him.” She pointed. “That way.”
The question had clearly been everything. Gabe’s shoulders dropped, his chest finally loosening, and his eyes shut with something too raw to be called relief. “Do you know how far?”
“No, it doesn’t work like that. Direction only.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “I have some bad news, Cally. Antoine has been…” He grimaced as if in pain. Then he braced his shoulders, took a breath, and finished his sentence. “Antoine has been entombed.”
Beside her, Noah sucked in a breath.
“What does that mean?”I sound calm. Why do I sound calm?
“Buried alive.”
She shuddered, unsure whether it was his tone or the words themselves. “An accident?” It didn’t make sense. He was with her only a fewhours ago.
“No,” Gabe said bluntly. “The Curia summoned us. They learned that Antoine fed from Minh, and have entombed him as a punishment.”
